


A dream coming true?

by Crazy_little_witch



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Humiliation kink, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Name-Calling, Not Canon Compliant, Omorashi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Scat, Semi-Public Sex, Size Kink, Threesome - M/M/M, Watersports, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 05:12:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12052029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazy_little_witch/pseuds/Crazy_little_witch
Summary: Sherlock and John are accompanying Greg to a crime scene, when Sherlock's transport decides, with a little „help“, to run havoc on the consulting detective.A discourse into their common kinks ensues.Warning: This contains watersports and scat – don't read this, if you're not into these kinks!





	A dream coming true?

**Author's Note:**

> While brooding over another story, this idea popped up and I decided to just go with it. Honestly, I have no idea, where it came from and I'll probably go to hell for it, but I hope you like it anyway.
> 
> Once more, please don't read this, if you're not into piss-/shitplay in any form! This might also contain triggers regarding dub-con, rough sex, name-calling etc. Please don't read it, if you're not sure, this could harm you!
> 
> To make it clear, in my headspace Sherlock could have stopped the scene at any moment! It's one of his fantasies, he wants to act out. Furthermore I decided to forego any logic (where are the other Yarders?) and safety issues (use condoms and lube!). This was a conscious decision and has nothing to do with real life!
> 
> The characters belong to ACD, the BBC and the Mofftiss, but the story is all mine. As are all mistakes. The story is not beta'ed.
> 
> All kudos and comments are highly appreciated!

Sherlock was examining the body in front of him, when he felt the first cramps. He froze. What was he supposed to do now? They were in the middle of nowhere, no house to be seen. He assumed he could hide behind one of the trees surrounding the area, but how to explain this to John and Lestrade? How to explain the noises? And there would be unmistakable sounds, if the amount of pain the cramps were rapidly causing was anything to go by...

Sweat formed on Sherlock's face and back, fat drops slowly running down his skin. God, this was humilating... and so so arousing. Frantically he tried to come up with a solution. His fingers twitching restless. „Sherlock?“ The detective whirled around to his two friends and winced. Bad move, really bad move. „What?“ He snapped at the doctor, who had came closer, to distract him from crossing his legs and tensing. „Are you ok? You seem agigated?“ Sherlock scoffed. „Of course I'm fine, doctor. Why shouldn't I?“ Please, ignore all signs of my discomfort, John. Pretty please. For once, don't start observing.

His body decided to embarass him even more, when his full bladder threatenend to let loose as well, reminding Sherlock with vengeance that there hadn't been time to use the bathroom before he dashed out of the house to get to the crime scene. What a fucking idiot he'd been. Damn it! Disregarding the pain, he felt his member stiffening and straining against his boxer shorts. Firtst drops of precum already building.

Heat rising to his face, his blush deepened significantly. What to do, what to do, what to do... The case had completely slipped from his mind, his only focus on his rebellious transport. Maybe he could... another cramp and Sherlock felt his anus open slightly under the pressure. Oh god... he was about to... and nowhere to hide... a deep moan echoed through the clearing. „Sherlock?“

The brunet fell on his knees, desperate. Any spark of decency had left him and with frenzied movement he tried to open his trousers to get them out of the way in time for his body starting to evacuate its waste. The two man, Sherlock had forgotten about in his mania, had non of it.

„Sherlock, stop it! Now!“ Sherlock felt someone stepping up to him, entering his personal space, while he still tried to open his zip. By now, the first dripples of diarrhoe had soiled the black cotton of his boxers, the wetness strangely pleasant against his skin.

Warmth against his hands, before they were pulled from his crotch with force. „What the f...?“ Sherlock struggled against the strong hold, forgetting his task to keep his muscles tense for only a moment. It was all it took. He whined and relaxed into strong arms, when the first waves of shit exited him. With each explosive, wet fart, his cock throbbed heavily. Sherlock didn't know whether he was in hell or heaven. Each wet dream he ever had becoming reality in the most humilating way.

While he was still hold, by Lestrade his mind offered unbid, John kneeled down behind him, and finally opened his trousers and pulled them down, as far as Sherlocks spread legs allowed it. His pants hung heavily and low on his hips, the shit slowly dripping through the thin fabric on his trousers. The rancid smell engulfed all three of them.

„God, Sherlock, you've really outdone yourself, haven't you.“ John groaned. „God, Greg you need to see this. This is so fucking hot...“ Sherlock eyes were red from crying, when he looked up, not sure he understood the man behind him correctly. Surely a man like John Watson wouldn't...

„Did you think, we wouldn't notice?“ Lestrade's voice was more a growl, than anything else. „Did you believe we wouldn't see the way you try to hide your little stiffy whenever you examine a corpse covered in faeces?“ Sherlock let himself be manhandled and pulled into the older man's body. His brain was fogged by arousal, almost floating in bliss.

Lestrade's hard cock pressed right into his stomach, and his bladder made itself known by finally letting loose. „Yesssssss...“ Lestrade hissed, the warm air stroke over Sherlock's sensitive skin, causing him to shiver, his piss continuing to rush out of him. Wetting both of them, him and Lestrade. „Aaaaaaaaaah...“ Sherlock was at the edge of coming, when both his friends retreated and the only thing he could feel was the cold air of the early morning.

Another shiver ran through the detective’s body and, without any support, he fell forwards, preventing to hit the ground with his face by barely landing on his hands. The new position allowed his body to even better let loose, more shit rushing out of his sore anus. „Perfect...“

Sherlock looked up at his friends. Instead of horror, or pity, he could only see fevered heath in their eyes, their faces flushed as his own. Their pupils as dark and huge as he'd never seen them. Lestrade was still in front of him, slowly coming to his feet. When their eyes met, the DI stroke over his soaked jeans, which couldn't hide his massive erection.

„Like what you see, bitch?“ The police man strolled forwards, till Sherlock could smell his own urin. His hips moved on their own account, seeking much needed friction. Another moan slipped from his mouth, Sherlock had lost any control. „Oh someone's really eager... you'll let us do anything, won't you, cockwhore?“ A constant stream of moans, followed Lestrade's words.

Sherlock let his mouth fall open, hoping they would understand. „You want it so bad, boy? Want my fat, long cock in your mouth?“ A nod. Please... „You have to earn it, bitch. Suck!“ With this fingers were pushed into his willing mouth and he could taste himself on them. Oh god,... he might come from the taste alone. Sherlock closed his eyes and tried desperately to think of something else. Anything. He didn't want it to be over too soon.

A soft hand grabbed his cock through the fabric of his shorts and squezzed it hard. „Not yet, boy.“ John's voice in his ears let him sigh. He relaxed into the slight pain, until the wave of arousal had ebbed down a bit. When the same hand began stroking over his waist and hips, he canted his pelvis in silent invitation. 

„Oh yeah, you're right. He IS eager. But first, I need to...“ His heavy pants were pulled down and the pile of shit in them, fell out, all over his trousers, the ground and John's hands. „....aaaaah... it's still warm... hmmmm...“ Slick sounds could be heard, than something thick pressed into Sherlock's ass with a steady tempo. The detective didn't know whether it was John's cock or his fingers. But neither did he care. He pushed back, till he was filled to the hilt.

„Oh god... ahh... you're killing me, Sherlock. God.... you're already so loose... I need... god...“ With a frenzied move, John pulled his fingers out. Sherlock turned, the sudden move had pulled him out of his stupor. His jaw went slack when he saw his flatmate smearing Sherlock's shit all over his cock and scrotum. „Oh yeah, look at me, slut... this one's all for you. Think you can take it? Take all of it, you dirty little shit?“

Sherlock could only whimper in need. His sweatsoaked hair fell him into his eyes, when he turned back, desperately tilting his ass back, hoping John would fuck him soon. How he needed it! His inner walls pulsed in a fast rhythm, craving the doctor's cock inside.

„Do it, please, John... ahhhh.... p-p-pleeeease...“ Sherlock couldn't stand it anymore. If he wasn't fucked right this moment, he probably would die. A dark chuckle answered him. „Die, hmm? We can't have this, slut.“ Without further hesitating, John breached Sherlock's muscles and filled him up, pressing soft shit out of the man below him.

Sherlock felt the fingers on his thighs, but couldn't fathom what John had planned to do. He groaned deeply when he felt smooth, wet fingers on his flanks, his back, his shoulders. He imagined what he must look like, kneeling in a pile of shit, his body smeared with liquid chunky feaces. Submitting completely to the images in his head, he started pissing again.

Harsh fingers pulled his head up and before he could blink through the sweat, another cock was rammed into him, his lips pushed widely apart. „Yeah... take it... hmmm... yes, take my cock, common,... I want you to gag around it... hmmm... god, you're the best fuck ever...“ Lestrade's hoarse voice pushed Sherlock even farther into subspace. His only purpose was to please his two friends. He opened his mouth wider, tried to relax into the movements from behind and in front of him, taking both of them even deeper into himself.

„Aaaaah, mate, I think we've finally found the off-button. God, John.... hmmm... this was the best idea ever...“ After another handful of thrusts, Greg pulled out of Sherlock's heat and with a hand in his soaked strands, he pulled the man's head back. „Look at me, whore!“ With wild and fast strokes Lestrade pulled at his almost purple cock. When Sherlock let his tongue poke out and accidentally touched the engorged tip, the DI lost control and came all over Sherlock's face. Hot streaks of sperm hitting his lips, his cheeks, his brows. 

John followed, flooding Sherlock deep inside. Pulling his softened cock out of the slack man, he added to the mess when his sperm dripped out of the detective alongside the last bit of diarrhoe. Sherlock, who hadn't come yet, fell to his side, completely drained, his cock still hard as a rock.

„Wanna come, boy?“ Sherlock opened his eyes and looked up to the doctor. „Please...“ a murmur, too exhausted to say more. „Than kneel, and you'll get your reward.“ It took the younger man a minute to get control over his limbs and another until he succeeded in sitting up.

His fingers twitched in the need of touching himself, but he refrained. He was only their slut, just allowed to do, what they wanted him to do. And they hadn't told him to touch. Instead he intertwined his hands behind his back to resist the temptation. „Good boy! Now, let's see how kinky you really are...“ 

A hot spurt hit him on the chest, a second on his stomach. The smell of urin filled his nose and a deep moan built in his throat. God, yes... His arousal tightened deep in his stomach, a throb that shook his whole body. It wouldn't take much now, to let him fall over the edge...

When the streams hit his face, soaking him from head to toe, a few drops splashed into his mouth. He swallowed eagerly, revelling in the bitter taste. „Come, now!“ The heat in him exploded in intensive waves. The orgasm hit him hard and, coming with a harsh cry, Sherlock woke up. 

For a long moment, Sherlock felt disoriented, caught between dream and reality and it took a while for him to notice the wet feeling around his crotch. Lifting the duvet he looked down and was shocked by the sheer amount of sperm that had soaked through his pants and on the sheet. „Oh god...“ He sank back on his pillow, his hands covering his red face. His body still blissfully relaxed by an obviously mindblowing orgasm.

Holy fuck! Where the hell had that come from?


End file.
